I have sincerely enjoyed Tex W’s thread (see link) on her recent discovery that she is a sci-fi fan, and is "embracing the inner dork". I welcome her with hailing frequencies open.
As I related, on her thread, I have been a fan of the Trek universe for many a year, dating back to the 70s. Jumping off the school bus, running into the house, grabbing a fistful of Oreos and a glass of milk, and settling down for an hour of star-flecked bliss before homework.
My friends and I would often congregate, as well, paying tribute to our heroes by giving them our rapt attention for their hour, or by playing them in the backyard and the woods, which served us well as the surface of some incredible alien world to explore.
Toy phasers in hand (often just a phaser-shaped twig for the unlucky), we’d bravely set off to zap the Klingon bad guy who was hiding behind that tree over there.
There is, however, a deeper and much more personal reason as to why I finally gave myself over to my mild indulgence. I became, in my early 20s, just in time for the coming of Trek: TNG, a full-blown, warp 9.9, phasers- set-to-kill Trek nutjob.
People often laugh when I tell this story, but it’s all true; no kidding around.
In 1986, at age 19, I made a terrible mistake; I married a young woman whom I thought I loved very much.
"Thought", as we all know, can be a very big, and very bad, word.
We were married for three years, but were together, really, maybe half that time. The rest of the time she was at her mom’s, running back to White Trash Heaven whenever we’d fight. We fought a lot.
She’d leave; I would apologize and kiss her ass, she’d come back. We’d fight, she’d leave; I’d apologize and kiss her ass, she’d come back.
A problem here was, she had a son by me, as well, and was an expert at holding that over my head because she knew I wanted him around.
We’d fight, she’d leave, I’d apologize and kiss her ass, she’d come back. We’d fight……you get the picture.
A very bad time in my life. Manipulation and marital infidelity on her part, lots of depression and anger, personal weakness and lack of direction on my part.
One chilly Saturday afternoon, I was hanging out at home, just channel surfing, when I came across an episode of "Star Trek".
In all pathetic, self-pitying seriousness, I watched it that day because it reminded me of the good times when I was a kid, hunkered down in my chair munching cookies and milk, and didn’t have all these problems. As I said, pathetic.
It was the episode "Amok Time", in which Spock, under the influence of the Vulcan male mating cycle, must return to Vulcan and mate, or die from the physical stresses. In other words, he was terminally horny.
Anyway, after some trial and error, Kirk manages to get Spock to Vulcan, where it is learned that he is betrothed, by familial agreement, to a Vulcan female named T’Pring.
As it turns out, T’Pring has chosen another, Stonn, to be her guy, and she rejects Spock. This means that Spock has to fight for her hand.
However, the twist comes when T’Pring chooses Kirk, there with McCoy as Spock’s ‘seconds’ for the wedding rites, to be her champion rather than Stonn.
Kirk accepts the role, realizing that Spock, in his weakened condition, is in no shape to fight Stonn. He figures he’ll just take a dive, and that’ll be that.
Spock, despite his raging madness, the result of the plak tow, the "blood fever", appeals to T’Pau, the Vulcan aristocrat and overseer of the wedding rite.
He points out that Kirk, as an off-worlder, is under no obligation to Vulcan ritual law. He warns that he will "do what he must".
T’Pau is impressed with Spock’s control, but counters that Kirk lawfully accepted the challenge. She must obey tradition.
As he is handed his weapon, Kirk is informed that the fight is to the death.
Personal combat ensues, using various ancient Vulcan weapons, and Kirk is easily winded in the thinner Vulcan atmosphere.
McCoy insists that he be given a fair chance. He offers to inject him with drug that helps the body process oxygen more efficiently. T’Pau allows it, and he injects Kirk with the drug. The fight rages on, and Spock at last strangles Kirk with the bola-like weapon, the Ahn-woon, and, realizing what he’s done, killed his friend and captain, is shocked out of the plak tow. McCoy, angered, chews him out and takes Kirk’s body back to the Enterprise via the transporter.
Spock approaches T’Pring and Stonn; he asks why she challenged. She replies that she wanted Stonn. She did not want to marry Spock, indicating that even if she had married him, he’d be gone all the time in Starfleet, she’d have his family name, his property, "and Stonn would still be there."
She picked Kirk because she wasn’t certain if Stonn could win, and she didn’t want him killed in any case. Kirk didn’t matter to her.
Spock released her from the betrothal, but with these words, and they’re burned in my memory in lines of red-hot fire:
"Stonn, she is yours….after a time, you may find that having is not so pleasing a thing, after all, as wanting. It is not logical, but I have found that it is often true."
Spock returns to the ship and is overjoyed to find Kirk alive, as McCoy had injected him with a drug that knocked him out, albeit just in time to avoid his being killed. The End.
As I heard Spock speak those words, it hit me; he was right.
My toxic relationship with my wife had caused me such emotional stress and problems. I was miserable.
I wanted her, but when I had her, I wanted her gone again.
Having was not so pleasing a thing as wanting. Not logical, no…..but true. I decided, as I sat there watching the credits role, that that was it. I was tired; I’d had enough, and I was letting her go. No more.
No more fighting, no more anger, and no more Connie. We were divorced not long after, after making arrangements about my son (another intensely problematic issue for the years to come), and for other issues.
I have "Star Trek" to thank for giving me whatever it was that I needed at that time to allow myself to let go of it all. It felt wonderful.
From then on, I became a true believer; a Trekker.
I began to appreciate it more and more, and with the new episodes of TNG coming every week, it was a wonderful time to rediscover my old favorite from a more mature perspective.
I actually became obsessed for a while there, addicted, even. But, as my (second) wife (who was NOT a Trekker) said, it was better, and cheaper, than drugs or alcohol.
I started collecting anything I could that said "Star Trek". I have, over the last 15 years or so, amassed quite a collection of items.
One thing I prize greatly, though, is an autographed picture of myself shaking hands with James (Scotty) Doohan, taken at a Trek function in Columbus, OH. Scotty was always my favorite.
Also from that meeting, I have an autographed pic of him in his maroon movie costume, and an autographed copy of "Mr. Scott’s Guide to the Enterprise".
Through the early-to-mid 90s, Channel 9 in Steubenville, OH, ran the "Star Trek Marathon" every Saturday night after "Saturday Night Live". Five episodes from 1-6 AM. TOS, TNG, DS9, TOS; I have untold numbers of videotapes full of recorded episodes. Getting a little ragged-looking now, considering the fact that some of them are over ten years old.
I also took to writing original Trek fan fiction as a hobby. Nothing ever published, but I enjoy the passtime.
At any rate, that’s how I got to be such a Trekhead. I love it; always have, really, but since that day, almost twenty years ago now, it means a lot more to me. A lot more.
"Peace and Long Life; Live Long and Prosper."---Vulcan greeting/farewell.